


Every Pilot Needs a Callsign

by learningtoacceptchange



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Beer, Call Sign, I'm surprised no one's done this yet, Naming Ceremonies, Pre Overwatch, There's a bit of drinking and partying, military camaraderie, what do you expect from pilots in a pub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 06:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9223271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/learningtoacceptchange/pseuds/learningtoacceptchange
Summary: Basically my idea of how 'Tracer' got her call sign in the first place. From Wikipedia: "An aviator call sign or callsign is a nickname given to a military pilot, flight officer, and even some enlisted aviators. This call sign is a substitute for the aviator's given name, and is used on flight suit and flight jacket name tags, painted/displayed beneath the officer's or enlisted aircrewman's name on aircraft fuselages or canopy rails, and in radio conversations."Somebody (or a group of them) decided to give her that name. The question is... how'd she get it, and what kind of story is behind it?





	

     The sounds of laughter and cheers rang out of the open windows and door of the Wheelbarrow Pub, a compliment to the golden light streaming out into the darkened summer sky. True to it's name, there were wheelbarrows parked in the back for use, usually for a drunken flight cadet to be wheeled back to base with their squadron singing one raucous song or another as they stumbled and staggered along. This night would be no exception to the rule; if you can't walk, you're taking a ride in the wheelbarrow. But it was for a special reason that this night was particularly rowdy. It was the 'naming ceremony' night, when the newest cadets were given their call-signs by their peers- specifically by the higher ranked pilots and officers who were participating in this year's naming. 

Some of the girls had been right pleased with their names, such as Sarah "Hawkeye" Adams (wore coke-bottle glasses but flew amazingly well) and Ruth "David" Bowie (already a charmer and had quite a memorable karaoke night). Some of the others looked less pleased, but a few beers later Janice "Boy" George was snickering over the jokes about her call sign, and Millicent "Pita" Crawford was loudly and drunkenly declaring she was a 'pain in the ass and proud of that'. Some of the others said they'd have to change the acronym to "Pitaapot", which brought even more laughter when she proclaimed it was better than 'Tusspot'- thankfully that name was already taken by a senior officer, who merely raised her glass to the cheers of the others. When Marsha "Amy" Johnson was given her name, there was a moment of respectful silence followed by all the glasses raised in the pub for a fallen comrade. But soon the levity returned when Lacey "Jack" Harkness bought a round for the house, in gratitude for being named after her favorite character from Doctor Who. 

Flight Officer Tiffany "Bright" Haines drained the pint in her glass, setting it down onto the coaster as she looked around at her fellow pilots, some of which were already passing pints around to the newly call-signed members of their group. "How many more do we have?"

"Two, I believe," drawled fellow officer Danielle "Dorian" Gray, looking towards the door. "Looks like Oakley and Oxton are left."

A collective murmur was heard in the pub at the mention of the last two pilots, with a few looks and winks from the higher ranks. "We've decided what we want for Oakley, but Oxton..." Gray drew off, shrugging. "We can't quite decide on that one." "We'll have to narrow down the list somehow..." Haines murmured, looking at the paper napkin bearing crossed off names with a slight chagrin. Her call sign had been chosen for her when one of the girls remembered 'Tiffany Lamps', but had been saved from being 'Lamp' because another pilot quickly remarked how bright she was. What to do about these two...

Outside of the pub, two figures waited for judgement from their comrades in arms. One of them sighed, tilting her head back to look up at the sky, now filled with stars. A cheerful, yet quiet voice murmured.  "What'cha looking at, Oakley?" The other cadet pointed upward at the sky. "That one there, that's Orion. See his belt?" 

"Ooh, you're right!" Oakley glanced at her fellow cadet, grinning at seeing her leaning against the nearby wall, appearing without a care in the world. 

"Wow, you're not phased at all, are you, Oxton?"

Flight Cadet Lena Oxton merely laughed. "About a nickname that'll last for my entire career?" There was a momentary stillness, lower lip caught between her teeth... but her confidence and spirit soon returned, almost visibly shaking her concern away. "I can't let that get me down! You'd understand, right? I'm sure they'll give you a smart name, Oakley."

"I can only hope so," Oakley grinned. There was a knock on the door frame, and the last cadet to walk in, Jessica Goodwin, leaned out to speak with them. "You're up, Oakley," she smiled at the two. 

"What name did you get, Jess?" Oakley asked, leaned away from the wall. Jessica sighed, smiling just a bit ruefully. "They gave me 'Iran'. As in, 'I Ran All Night'?" 

Oxton and Oakley winced, exchanging glances before laughing. "That's what happens when you get caught trying to visit a sweetheart after lights out, luv," Oxton grinned. 

Jessica merely stuck out her tongue and winked. Before walking into the pub, Oakley caught Oxton's hand in a firm shake. "See you on the other side, mate," Oakley smiled bravely. "I'll buy you the first pint, eh?"

"Right, you'd better," Oxton laughed, and soon she was left alone with her thoughts. 

The desire to become a pilot first formed when she was taught about Overwatch in school, and shown the videos of the skirmishes during the Omnic Crisis. The speed and acrobatics of the fighter jets were mesmerizing, and when one of the hotshot pilots was revealed to be a woman, young Lena had decided right there and then what to pursue. Her grades were more than adequate, and her parents were a little hesitant, but proud of their daughter's tenacity and achievements. 

Being accepted into the RAF officer school had been a dream come true, although the training had been rugged and tough. Day into day, night into night followed with drills, drills and more drills, cleaning and protocol schedules to follow, and her fellow recruits had mixed reactions. A few were miffed at seeing someone so young accepted into the pilot's program, and their words and actions were less than friendly. But with hard work and dedication (along with the occasional joke or twelve), had earned her the respect of her fellow cadets and instructors. There had been a few 'awkward moments', which happened in any training facility. She didn't know what impact they'd have, trying to ignore the ball of dread in her stomach. 'I doubt anyone's forgotten the sticker incident...' she thought. 

Soon, Oakley appeared, beaming. "Annie!" she said, to Lena's momentary confusion. "They gave me "Annie"! 'Annie Oakley', like the gunslinger?" 

Lena laughed. "Told you it'd be a clever one!" She took a moment to straighten her uniform. "Well, best to get it done." 

"Stiff upper lip and all that," Oakley grinned. and followed after Lena as she stepped inside. 

The pub was uncharacteristically quiet, with the officers and formerly callsign-less cadets watching Lena as she marched to the center of the room, quickly snapping off a salute. "Flight Cadet Lena Oxton, reporting for naming ceremony, ma'am!" 

Flight Officer "Bright" Haines pushed her chair back and stood up in front of Lena, who stood motionless and at-attention. A few seconds pass, Haines giving off her trademark appraising look, before a smile curled the officer's lips, and she returned the salute. 

"At ease, Oxton." 

Lena relaxed, falling into the position thankfully. 'A few more seconds and I'd bust out laughing,' she thought. 

"All right, ladies, last one," Haines turned back to the others. "Now, we've got a few names that more than a few seem to like, might as well tell this cadet what they might be?" 

The names were yelled out, quick and fast, accompanied by a few bursts of laughter.

"Puppy!"

"Bunny! You know, she hops around when she gets excited?"

"Speedy! Runs everywhere, all the time!"

"Giggles! She's always laughing, isn't she?"

"Cutie!"

"Now that's just playing up to it, Harkness..."

"Laugh!"

"Shorty!"

"Thumbelina!"

"Tinkerbell!"

"Elf!"

Haines waved her arms for quiet in the now noisy pub. Lena had tipped sightly forward, but regained her stance quickly, though she wasn't able to keep from laughing that time. "However," the flight officer continued. "I think we can agree there's one incident that makes the decision for us, eh?"

This statement was met by shouts of approval, as Lena swallowed hard. 

"A few days ago, our base was visited by a high-ranking officer, an air vice-marshal. That's not something to sneeze at, especially when they're six or seven or eight ranks above you!" Haines had the crowd's attention and was getting into the story. 

"And we all dug in and made our base shine. I mean, you could've seen the barracks from space, they were so clean! If there was a way to clean dirt, the cadets would've found a way to invent it! Everything was so spot on and beautiful it made your eyes water just to look around!" Haines paused, casting a quick glance at Lena. The young woman was still at ease, but the tell-tale moment of her throat betrayed nervousness. The officer grinned. 

"Then it was time for inspection, full flight suits, routine drill, all proper and official. From what I saw, the maneuvers went without a hitch, those flying that day had scored excellent marks, it was glorious! I'd really though we'd hammered home a perfect visit, no mistakes! It turns out we did, thankfully because the officer in question had a sense of humor!" Now the regulars of the bar had turned round in their chairs, listening and interested. 

"I was the last officer to give the air vice-marshal my farewells, and good thing too, because I don't think anyone else would've been as lenient as I was... anyway, I shook their hand, and the conversation went something like this;

"Well done, Flight Officer Haines, your base is in top form and the recruits seem to be taking to the lessons like ducks to water!"

"Yes, Air Vice-Marshal, thank you ma'am!" 

"I do have a slight concern over the nighttime demonstration that I noticed." 

"Yes, ma'am, what would that be, ma'am?

"It appeared that one of your cadets had taken on a bit more reflective gear on their uniform than the others did. The only reason I noticed it was because it reminded me of a tracer bullet, streaking through the darkness? Also, I would guess from the placement of the tape that it was stuck to their, erm... bottom... You might want to look into that, Flight Officer."

Lena's face immediately went red, almost to the roots of her messy brown hair as the other cadets and officers chuckled and laughed, only to quickly quiet down. 

"I made sure to thank her for the observation, and once the higher-ups had left, immediately went to the storage room in the barracks, checking each uniform- and sure enough, what did I find?"

Haines stepped beside Oxton, gesturing dramatically as the officer yelled to the others. 

"Somehow, a large blue hologram sticker was fixed right on the bum of Oxton's flight suit for all and sundry to see!"

The cadets and officers roared with laughter. Crawford fell from her bar-stool, she was laughing so hard. Lena glanced around, and though Oakley gave a reassuring grin, there were tears of mirth in her eyes. Haines had to wave her arms to quiet everyone again.

"I burst into the rec room and immediately drove Oxton onto the parade grounds, while the others watched us drill over and over and over again until I got the truth of the matter. They were a gift from one of her friends, weren't they Oxton?"

Lena had to swallow hard before speaking. "... yes, Flight Officer Haines, they were a birthday gift from a friend."

"And you did put them away carefully, but one of them was in your pocket when you were kitted with the flight suit, right?"

"Yes, it was, Flight Officer Haines." 

The laughter died down and the others waited with bated breath, as Haines stepped in front of Oxton. 

"And that's why we're giving you this callsign-"

Lena held her breath as Haines stepped aside, gesturing to the cadet with a wave of her hand.

"Fellow officers and cadets, many I introduce to you... Flight Cadet Lena 'Tracer' Oxton!" 

The noise in the pub was the loudest heard since they first began, with even the patrons applauding and yelling their approval. Oakley stepped in to guide a still stunned Lena to the bar, clapping a hand on her shoulder. 

"Shall I buy you your first pint, 'Tracer'?" Oakley asked, grinning. 

Lena blinked, mouthing the word as if she had heard it for the first time. 'Tracer'... there was something about it that was just... right. 

Her smile returned and she gave a one-armed hug to her fellow cadet. "Only if you let me get your next one, 'Annie'!"

The cadet whirled around and quickly stood, snapping off another salute to Haines. "Thank you for the callsign, Flight Officer Haines, ma'am!"

Haines merely grinned, raising her pint in congratulations. "You're welcome, 'Tracer'. How about you get me and Flight Officer Gray here another set, eh?"

Lena 'Tracer' Oxton giggled, nodding her approval. "You got it!" 

That night, the beer flowed and laughter rang out cheerfully. The cadets and officers staggered back to base next morning, with Oakley and Oxton cuddled in the wheelbarrow. Later, nursing headaches the size of Madagascar and zero-g dizzy rated hangovers, the two of them returned the wheelbarrow to the establishment, where it waited for yet another cadet to receive their callsign and more pints than they could handle.

No one had any idea that the name given to that young cadet would be so fitting, or appropriate many years on... 

Years later, as each cadet rose through the ranks and went on to other postings, they kept tabs on their fellow pilots. All of them remembered Oxton, and were amazed to hear of her appointment to Overwatch, then struck numb at the unfortunate accident and the loss of one of their own. The numbness was quickly lost when she returned, this time wearing some oddly lit equipment, but still with that same cheerful and determined attitude they knew so well.  And when news reports came up of the adventurer-turned-vigilante named Tracer operating in King's Row, who left a trail of blue light wherever she ran... there was a smile, a laugh, a chuckle at remembrance of the night she first received that name. 

**Author's Note:**

> If I bungled up some of the terminology or ranks in this story, I profusely apologize to the RAF and those who are offended by my mistakes. I would like to point out that I've made a few references to women's military aviation in Great Britain-
> 
> Amy Johnson is the name of an amazing pilot from Great Britain, breaking records in the 1930's and being the first female pilot who flew from Britain to Australia alone. She died in 1941 from a crash into the Thames Estuary. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amy_Johnson
> 
> The highest rank currently held by a woman in the RAF is held by Air Vice-Marshal Elaine West. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elaine_West
> 
> If there's something else I could add to make the story more realistic, I am willing to do so. Thank you for reading this!


End file.
